


Flour Delivery

by okinawasobas



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okinawasobas/pseuds/okinawasobas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Diehl: resident witch, delivery girl, and unofficial matchmaker of Top Spot Bakery. All in a day's work really. Loosely based on Kiki's Delivery Service. For Soul Eater Reverb 2016</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flour Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, my first entry to a Soul Eater fandom event! My partner, witchynick, had a fantastic idea and I'm so honored that I got to bring it to life. I'm really proud of this and had so much fun writing it, and I hope you enjoy it too! I will post a link to my partner's art when it's posted. For now, I hope you like it!

**FLOUR DELIVERY  
** _ soulevansvevo/witchynicky  
_ _ Reverb 2016 _

 

-

 

She’s never liked the rain. She thinks about that sometimes, usually when it’s a torrential downpour outside and she doesn’t particularly want to leave her room and face it. Kim’s generally not the sentimental type, preferring action to reflection, but it’s raining outside today so she thinks about everything again. Jackie’s flame flickers a bit inside her lantern, Kim knows she’ll be waking up soon, but she sits by the window for a minute and thinks anyway.

 

Everything started in a rainstorm, Kim reflects. She remembers it well. Leaving the coven just north of Salt Lake City to find her own way as a young witch, nervous as all hell but hiding it from Jackie as best she could. They flew for miles; the destination in mind was California, but the most direct route was through Death Valley. The plan was to cross Death Valley overnight to beat the heat, and hopefully fly through the day to make it to the Pacific coast. Everything seemed to work out in their favor, until they approached the desert’s edge just after sunset only to find themselves in the middle of a freak summer rainstorm.

 

She swore violently, using a quick spell to protect Jackie’s lantern from the pounding rainfall, and swerved toward the closest town she could see on the map. The wind and rain threatened to knock her off her broom, even gripping as tightly as she could she nearly fell off, but miraculously she was able to land her broom on a small, winding street and plant two feet firmly on the ground.

 

This was the real reason Kim hated the rain. An unfamiliar town, drenched with water that still fell from the sky, cold and shivering, she never felt quite so helpless as those moments as she wandered the streets hoping for shelter. After what felt like miles (but was really only a few blocks she would find later), she found herself standing under a warm looking building just at the crest of the hill. Top Spot Bakery, the sign outside said. This she remembers most vividly, stepping cautiously into the building and closing the door behind her, long pink hair plastered across her forehead.

 

A boy stood behind the counter, dark skin peppered with white flecks of what looked like flour, long cornrow braids tied back into a ponytail. He looked alarmed, though who could blame him? Kim knew she looked more akin to a drowned rat than she did a young witch. He blinked owlishly at her from behind thick rimmed glasses, then spoke.

 

“Are you alright miss? Do you need a towel or something? I think we have one in the bac-”

 

He was interrupted by the presence of another. This one, considerably shorter and considerably paler, had thick black bangs and eerily golden eyes that seemed to stare almost through her. She nearly turned on her heel and left before he, too, had something to say.

 

“You-you.. You’re dripping. On the. On the wel-welcome m-mat.”

 

This stuttered sentence turned into a strangled cry of anguish. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his face in his hands, yelling unintelligible combinations of sounds. The boy behind the counter sprung to action, leaping quickly around the counter to join his companion on the ground. He grasped the other boy’s wrists in his own hands and pulled him to a squat before him.

 

“Breathe, Kid, it’s alright,” he said soothingly, so soothingly that Kim herself felt the need to inhale deeply. “Breathe in, hold it, breathe out.” He coached the other through his breathing until the staggered intakes of oxygen gave way to fluid, gentler patterns. The two stood up together then, the darker boy still gripping his companion by the wrist, and then they turned to Kim.

 

It was silent for a moment, Kim still dripping in the entryway and the two boys staring intently at her. Finally, Kim spoke for the first time since entering the bakery.

 

“So, like, are you two dating?”

 

They immediately dropped their hands from each other, springing several feet apart and blushing madly.

 

“No, why would you say that?!” they cried in unison, and Kim grinned.

“Oh, no reason,” she replied mischievously, twirling a lock of her long hair. “Do you perchance have somewhere I could stay the night?”

 

The two sprang into action, almost in unison, and Kim’s grin widened further. They acted and interacted like two halves of a whole, and as she followed them to their spare room above the bakery, she resolved to herself to make sure they were together if it was the last thing she did.

 

And it still feels like the last thing she’ll ever do, she always thinks bitterly as the story finishes replaying in her head. Two years later, she still hasn’t made it to California, still hasn’t left the spare room above the bakery, and Kid and Kilik are still tiptoeing around one another. It’s a little sickening, honestly, watching them pine. Jackie’s exhausted of her constantly wanting to  _ discuss _ it, and Kim thinks it would be nice if her familiar would quit her bitching and help her get them together already. Jackie’s flame flickers again, more violently this time, as if she can hear Kim’s thoughts, and Kim rolls her eyes in response.

 

The reminiscing interrupted, Kim stands up from her chair next to the window and changes into clothes more proper for the general public. She dresses simply, soft blue shorts with a plain white t-shirt, her most comfortable striped poncho over that. Knowing her luck, with the threatening cloud cover outside, she’ll have twenty deliveries to make and it’ll start raining sometime after lunch, and she’d rather be cold than be loaded down with heavy, soaking wet clothes on her person.

 

It’s nearly time for her workday to begin (Kilik’s been in the kitchen for about three hours at this point), so she picks her broom up from its perch against the wall, affixes Jackie’s lantern to the end, and makes her way downstairs to the bakery.

 

All in all, it starts as a normal day. Kim wanders downstairs, leaves her broom against the wall by the stairs, and makes her way to the kitchen where she nicks a freshly frosted cinnamon bun, winks lasciviously at the assistant baker of the week (a twitchy little thing named Ox), and plops herself down on the stool she keeps next to Kilik’s workspace.

 

“Morning,” she says cheerily. Kilik smiles briefly, his attention focused on kneading the bread dough in front of him. “How’s new guy doing?”

 

“No incidents to report,” he mutters, concentrating. “Might make it through the week.”

 

“Would you be willing to put money on it?” she asks slyly, and he rolls his eyes.

 

“Not likely.”

 

“That’s fine.” She takes another bite of cinnamon bun. “Liz probably will.”

 

“Liz would gamble her whole damn paycheck away if she didn’t have Patti to take care of.”

 

Liz was once the Blackjack queen of Death City Casino, or so they say. Kim might be willing to place a bet on that fact; she’s seen the woman’s poker face after all.

 

“And how’s Kiddo this morning?”

 

Kim asks him every morning, and every morning Kilik has the same reaction. Freezing in place, he makes a face as if he’s about to sneeze, nearly drops the ball of dough he’s working with, then turns to Kim with a glare that’s negated by the flour and bits of dough that are probably sticking to his face by now. Surely he would anticipate the question since she’s only asked it  _ every morning since she moved here _ , yet somehow this interaction repeated daily makes it worth it to wake up in the morning.

 

“You’ve got it bad, Kilik,” she says between bites of her morning pastry. “You ever think about telling him?”

 

“Telling who what?” a familiar voice asks, and Kilik chokes on his own spit.

 

“Telling, er, uh,” Kilik says eloquently.

 

“Telling new guy over there that he’s got his apron on inside out,” Kim yells, causing the new guy in question to drop everything in his hands and immediately flip the apron around. It’s comical how quickly Ox reacts, and Kim considers (not for the first time) selling out the entire establishment to one of those industries that writes sitcoms.

 

“Now his apron’s actually inside out,” she whispers to Kilik, who grins conspiratorially. “Good morning, Kid.”

 

“Good morning,” he greets her warmly. “I have a list of deliveries for you to make today. As soon as Ox finishes decorating that cake, everything will be ready to go.”

 

She mock salutes him in response. “Aye aye, Captain Kid.”

 

“Please don’t call me that,” he says without an ounce of irritability in his tone. She grins.

 

-

 

With Kim gone on delivery and Ox on dish duty, Kilik is finally able to work in peace. As much as he rather likes the young witch, her incessant chattering (and how she nearly reveals his harbored feelings toward his partner on a  _ daily basis _ ) makes it hard to concentrate on work, and it’s bread day. Bread is tricky to get just right, and though he’s loathe to admit it, he’s kind of a perfectionist when it comes to the bakery.

 

He’s been a perfectionist about this stuff since the bakery opened, around five years ago. At the time it was himself and his friend Harvar, they’d just finished high school and after brief stint at a local technical school thought themselves brilliant enough to manage and run their own bakery. Everything went according to plan. Harvar was brilliant when it came to business and communication, and convinced the loan officers at the bank that their bakery was set to be a success. The bakery started to go up, with the help of Maka they started designing the inside, and the day after they placed an order for all the kitchen equipment they would need Harvar cancelled his end of the business partnership over a text message.

 

Granted, Harvar had always had his own set of personal issues, but this left Kilik in a bind. He was a baker, not a businessman, and this bakery was supposed to put his twin baby siblings through college one day. He spent a few days trying to come up with a plan, failing miserably, and another evening or two crying and picking fights with Blackstar over the complete failure of his dreams. Then Maka brought up her friend Kid Tombs, who he’d met briefly a few times and who she grew up with, and the rest was, as they say, history.

 

What he was not prepared for was the the way his mouth went dry when Kid smiled at him for the first time, or the way his palm got all clammy and gross when they shook hands to seal the partnership. Five years later, nothing’s changed, except maybe throw in a few longing glances when Kid’s back is turned or some zoned out daydreaming on the rare day he has to work the counter.

 

Pathetic. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. He throws the bread dough a little too forcefully, and it deflates just the slightest bit. Panicked, he picks it back up, cradling the floury mess in his arms, and whispers.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Kilik didn’t mean to throw you so hard,” Kilik coos. “I promise it’ll never happen again.”

 

“Talking to the bread again, are you?”

 

He drops the dough back on the counter and whirls around. Kid stands behind him, arms folded, smiling one of his rare (but beautiful) smiles.

 

“Shut up,” he mutters in response, turning back toward his counter. “Sent Kim off yet?”

 

“She’s on her way as we speak.” Kid is quiet for a second, then takes Kim’s usual seat at the stool at the end of the counter. “How is Ox doing, anyway?”

 

“He’s fine.” Kilik glances briefly at Kid, smiling, then turns back to his work. “Finished that cake up pretty quick, I put him on dish duty.”

 

“Good, good.”

 

It’s quiet for the next few. Kilik relishes these moments of companionable silence with Kid. They’ve come less frequently these days; Top Spot is doing so well lately, the two constantly have somewhere to be or something to be working on, and it’s hard to spare a few minutes away from their respective positions. Even still, Kilik’s favorite moments at work are these, where Kid takes time away just to sit and watch him work.

 

The time goes by too quickly however, and finally Kid steps down off the stool and arches his back.

 

“I need to get back to work, I have a few orders to make today.” Kid smiles, placing a hand briefly on Kilik’s shoulder, which seems to burn under the touch. “Let’s take a day off soon, I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

 

“Absolutely,” Kilik agrees, looking up. Kid lingers a moment longer, his hand still resting warmly on Kilik, until he slides away almost reluctantly. Kilik feels his face burning as he turns back to his work, he plans on reliving and relishing that moment for the rest of the day, until a shuddered gasp escapes from Kid.

 

Whirling around, he turns to where Kid is standing at Ox’s station, holding the icing bottle Ox was using earlier.

 

“Um, Kid? Everything alright, man?”

 

Kid turns slowly back toward Kilik, his mouth open, a horrified look on his face. “This… This isn’t. This isn’t frosting.”

 

“You gotta use complete sentences, what’s happening?”

 

Kid takes a moment to compose himself. Kilik can see his fingers shaking, and he nearly reaches out to him prepared for one of Kid’s panic attacks, until he interrupts with a shout.

 

“THIS IS WASABI. HE DECORATED THE CAKE WITH WASABI.”

 

“FUCKIN’ SHIT.”

 

-

 

It was a completely routine delivery in every way. Kim landed in front of the location, a business party in downtown Death City for some corporation or another. Left her broom by the door in Jackie’s possession, carried the cake upstairs via elevator, and after receiving payment (and  _ no _ tip whatsoever, ugh), mounted her broom and returned to the bakery. All in all, it had taken her about 45 minutes round trip. At least it hasn’t rained yet, she thinks.

 

When she finally dismounts in front of the bakery, she opens the front of the lantern and the flame inside shoots out. Gracefully as ever, the flame morphs from its flickering orange form into the loveliest girl Kim had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Jackie stretches, runs long fingers through her hair, and glares at the witch.

 

“It’s about damn time you let me out of there,” Jackie says in lieu of a greeting. Kim rolls her eyes. She loves her so much it’s almost sickening.

 

“Yeah, yeah. You knew I had a delivery first thing. Anyway, the assholes didn’t even tip me. I had to go  _ all the way downtown  _ you know.”

 

“I know. I was there.”

 

Kim follows Jackie back inside the bakery. Liz waves briefly as the bell chimes, assisting a customer with a bread order or something. The two nod politely at the customer, and make their way towards the kitchens.

 

Kim hears Kid before she sees him, and pokes her head into the kitchen curiously. Kilik sees her first and shakes his head rapidly, running a finger across his throat. She takes this to mean that she should tread carefully, and as desperately as she wants to rush in and ruffle feathers, she curbs her chaotic instinct and treads with caution. Kilik better thank her later.

 

“Er, everything okay?” she asks almost nervously.

 

“Not exactly,” Kilik starts, but Kid interrupts before he can finish.

 

“WHERE DID YOU DELIVER THAT CAKE,” he screams. Kim’s eyes dart back to where Jackie stands beside her, and her familiar shrugs in response.

 

“Excalibur Corp.? But I mean, what’s goin-”

 

“You know that bottle of wasabi Kid leaves in the fridge for his lunches?” Kilik looks pointedly at Kim. She raises an eyebrow.

 

“Um, yeah? But I don’t know-”

 

“The cake you delivered had light green as the accent color, right?”

 

“Sure, I guess, but-”

 

“Do you really not know where this is going.”

 

Kim’s eyes widen with realization. “Fucking shit, Ox did not-”

 

“Yes. Yes, Ox did,” Kid responds, a dark undertone in his voice. The four glance at each other in horror.

 

“What do we need to do?” Jackie says.

 

“Probably get our asses back down there,” Kim replies. “Though they didn’t even  _ tip _ so I don’t see the point-”

 

“Kim, they are an IMPORTANT CUSTOMER. We make deliveries to them at least once a WEEK, we cannot lose them!”

 

“Alright Kid, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “So like, do I need to take them anything?”

 

“Kid’s gonna go get a gift certificate ready, isn’t he?” Kilik says, placing his hands on Kid’s shoulders.

 

“Yes, I believe that would be the next reasonable course of action, wouldn’t it?”

 

Less than two minutes later, Kid emerges from his office with an envelope in tow. “Kim, I’ll need you to take me to Excalibur Corporation.”

 

“What, on  _ my _ broom?” Kim shakes her head. “No way. I don’t take passengers, you know that.”

 

“Now is NOT the time to argue, let’s go!”

 

“Absolutely not, no  _ fucking  _ way.”

 

Three minutes later, the two are seated on Kim’s broom, Jackie flickering in the lantern. Kim grumbles the whole way, not exactly a fan of Kid’s presence on the back of her broom. He weighs her down, she’s not used to traveling with another person, so it takes her nearly six minutes longer than her usual time. Whatever. At least he’s quiet, she thinks. Fidgety though, probably messing with the rings on his middle fingers. Hopefully they can get this over with quickly and get Kid back to the shop before he gets too agitated.

 

They finally make it to the business; the trio make their way upstairs, Jackie back in a corporeal form, and burst through the doors of where the business party was to be held. The cake, placed on a table against one wall next to a bowl of punch, is destroyed. The punch bowl is empty, empty glasses rest in the hands of businessmen and women who sit on the floor or in chairs clutching their stomachs. Half eaten pieces of cake litter the tables and floors, and there’s a few people sitting next to the trashcan which is no doubt filled with half eaten cake (and probably some business persons’ half digested lunch).

 

They look up to the desk in the middle of the room, where a man sits wearing an unreadable expression on his face.

 

“Um, hello sir,” Kim says apprehensively. “We’ve brought-”

 

“FOOL.”

 

-

 

Kim, Kid, and Jackie finally make it back to the kitchen, nearly identical expressions of either frustration or disgust on their faces. Kilik approaches cautiously.

 

“Well, um, how did it go?”

 

The three look at him, then at each other, and groan in near perfect unison.

 

“I take it not well… Um, well, the rest of the day’s supposed to be quiet and-”

 

“Hey guys, what’d I miss?”

 

Ox emerges from the dishroom, bright yellow rubber gloves covering his arms from fingertip to elbow, his glasses perched carefully on top of his head. He grins at the others, soap and bubbles flying off his gloves and plastic apron. The four turn toward Ox and glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

 

“Uh, guys?”

 

-

 

After the dust settles from the morning’s cake fiasco and Ox’s subsequent firing, the afternoon is quiet. A few customers trickle in and out, one picks up a cake for her daughter’s birthday party, another two or three want a pastry or cupcake out of the display box. Otherwise, things are steady and calm, and Liz relishes the change of pace.

 

She checks the clock on the wall above the front door. Patti should be getting out of class in an hour or so, and will probably drop by the bakery to keep her company. Kid will bury himself in his office for another thirty minutes before she or Kilik forces him to take a break. The hours between one and three are usually the slowest at the bakery, the calm before the storm of the after school crowds. A literal storm, probably, judging by how the clouds are getting darker and lower as the day goes on. This is usually the time when Liz catches up on her reading, and with this in mind, she takes her Kindle out of her bag only for the bell to chime as she unlocks it.

 

Liz looks up to the door, customer smile plastered on her face. “Welcome to Top Spot, what can I - oh, hey Soul.”

 

He smiles lazily and holds up two fingers in a sort of half wave. “How’s the shop today?”

“Ox got his ass fired earlier. Somehow mistook wasabi for green frosting, decorated a whole cake with it.”

 

Soul laughs. He didn’t used to do that very often; Liz doesn’t know what spell Maka’s put on him, but it’s definitely the same one Kilik uses on Kid, the one that got him smiling again after the storm that was his dad dying and the one that makes him sniff a flower or two, probably. Liz is grateful, she’s always liked Soul ever since he recognized Etta Fitzgerald’s crooning she had as a ringtone back in the ninth grade. He deserves Maka, she’s always thought so.

 

“So what brings you in today? Maka’s not with you,” she points out casually, leaning over the counter.

 

“She’s got class right now. And it’s not like she’s  _ always _ with me,” he says defensively, stuffing his fists further into the pockets of his hoodie. She stares in response, raising one eyebrow until he squirms.

 

“Okay fine,” Soul relents. “Maybe she  _ is _ always with me.”

 

“So when are you two gonna start dating, anyway?”

 

He turns red and mumbles. “That’s actually. Um. Why I’m here.”

 

Liz grins. “Oh reeeally?”

 

“Don’t make this weird,” he mutters.

 

“Oh, alright fine, quit your pouting.” He looks as if he’s going to contest this, but thinks better of it. “What do you need from me?”

 

“Maka’s favorite cupcake. It’s the strawberry one, right?”

 

“This one, actually.” She takes one out of the case, pink frosting topping a fluffy vanilla looking cupcake, with a straw sticking out of it. “It’s a Kilik specialty. Strawberry milkshake cupcake. The frosting takes just like a strawberry milkshake, it’s insane.”

 

Soul nods. “Okay, I’ll take two then.”

 

“Good.” She grins again. “The cake has the same frosting in the middle. She loves them. She’d eat like five in a row if I didn’t remind her about track meets coming up. Oh, don’t worry, it’s on me.”

 

Soul furrows his brow and frowns. “Nah, Liz, I’ve got the money right here.”

 

“Oh hush. If you ask her out by tonight, I win the betting pool. It’s up to three hundred right now, and Patti needs new shoes.”

 

“You have… a betting pool on this.” He chokes, looking as if he’s not quite sure what to do with this, and she laughs.

 

“We’ve got a betting pool on everything. I bet you guys would be together by May 1st. That’s tomorrow. I thought I’d lost twenty bucks on you, Eater, don’t let me down.”

 

“Eater..” he chuckles. “No one’s called me that since high school. The cool days.”

 

“So cool so scandalous, I remember.” She hands him the cupcakes in a brown paper back and winks. “Go get the girl, Eater. Lord knows we’ve been waiting long enough.”

 

He rolls his eyes, but smiles despite himself, and leaves the shop with another lazy wave and the ringing of the bell. Liz picks up her kindle and smiles. Soul’s been following Maka to the bakery since the day it opened, like a lost puppy, and it’s about damned time she turns around and sees it for what it is.

 

“Did I just hear Soul come in?”

 

Kid steps besides her behind the counter, back straight and shoulders square compared to her own slouch in the chair she’s in. She puts the device back down, wondering if she’ll ever get to finish her book, and looks up.

 

“He was picking up some cupcakes. Maka’s favorite. He’s finally gonna tell her, you know.”

 

Kid scoffs. “Finally. We’ve all waited nearly five years for this.”

 

“You’re telling me.” She elbows him in the side. “If she says yes, I win the betting pool tonight, you know.”

 

“Congratulations,” he says stiffly, but with a smile.

 

“You know what would make this even better?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“If I win the other betting pool. The one on you and Kilik.”

 

The color drains from Kid’s face, and he starts fidgeting with his rings. “You’ve… placed a bet on that too, have you?”

 

“Same bet as I put on Soul and Maka’s. May 1st.”

 

“You’re confident.”

 

“We’ve only been watching you dance around each other since high school, Kid.”

 

She stares at him intently, relishing his flinch when her eyes meet his. They communicate like twins sometimes, no need for words, and this is no exception.

 

“I know it’s hard. I know it didn’t work out with your parents. With Maka’s parents. Hell, Spirit and Stein didn’t even last. You’ve seen a lot of times where these things don’t work out.” She smiles now. “But your dad got you out of it. Spirit adores Maka, even when he’s being a fucking creep about things. Stein and Marie’s kids are growing like weeds, and Soul’s finally gonna tell Maka he’s in love with her. These things don’t always work out, but sometimes they do, and it’s always worth it to try, just in case.”

 

Kid doesn’t speak, just glances back at her briefly before nodding once and retreating back to his office. But she knows he was listening, because for the briefest second she saw a smile on his lips and a little bit of hope in his eyes, and so her smile for the customers is genuine this time because her closest friends deserve to be happy, and maybe tonight more than one will figure out how.

 

-

 

The storefront of the bakery is one of the more inviting places Kim’s ever encountered. It’s not just because it’s a  _ bakery _ , though the baskets of bread loaves, the constant smell of something baking, and how warm it is no matter the time of year don’t hurt the image. Maka had designed the storefront, according to Kid and Kilik, and she did a phenomenal job really. They say she insisted on leaving the bare brick on the walls instead of adding drywall, an idea that made the whole room somehow feel like a cottage. Brick walls, terracotta floors, and green plants everywhere add to this effect. She insisted on black iron tables and wicker chairs with brightly patterned cushions, and giant windows looking into the storefront. The back wall behind the counter always has an art gallery featuring local talents, something Maka actually credits to Soul.

 

It even manages to be welcoming at night, when the signs are turned off and the doors are locked, and the ovens have been shut down for the night. The storm finally breaks on this particular night, and as much as she hates the rain, she doesn’t mind it so much when she’s got her legs tucked under her, seated in her favorite chair with the blue and pink floral cushion, a steaming mug of Blackstar’s secret hot chocolate recipe between her hands.

 

The group tries to have a game night at least once a week. Kim joins in sometimes, depending on the game, but she never plays Settlers of Catan. Maka always wins when they play Settlers of Catan, and Kim hates to lose.. Glancing toward their table now, Maka (who always chooses red) has the longest road, the biggest army, and is expanding her empire even further by converting to another city on the board. Kim doesn’t know how the others stand it.

 

Soul sits in the chair next to her. He’s not playing, instead he’s turned backwards in his chair talking to Liz and Jackie instead about something or another. His right hand is entwined with Maka’s left under the table; they got together earlier today and it’s about damn time, really. Blackstar lets out a yell from his side of the Catan board, and Maka high fives Tsubaki from across the table. Kim watches Patti use the distraction to steal a few resource cards from under Blackstar’s not-so-watchful eye. She does this every time they play, but usually Kid is there to stop her.

Speaking of Kid, she hasn’t seen him for a while. She scans the room, counting friends off in her head, and realizes Kilik’s gone missing, too. For the briefest of moments, she wonders if she should just let them be and mind her own business, but thinks better of it and sets her mug down on the table next to Jackie’s elbow.

 

She makes it just past the storefront, to the little alcove with a stairwell on one side and the cleaning cabinet on the other, when she recognizes the low voices of her missing friends. Gotcha, Kim thinks as she ducks into the stairwell.

 

“...-that Soul and Maka got together today.” She catches the end of Kid’s sentence, and clasps a hand over her mouth to prevent squeals from getting out. Finally, after all this time, she thinks.

 

“Yeah, good for them, huh?”

 

The shakiness in Kilik’s tone indicates his nervousness, and it makes her all the more giddy.

 

“Yes, I’m quite happy for them.” Kid pauses. “Though, er, it made me think about some things myself.”

 

“Okay?”

 

Just fucking get on with it, she thinks.

 

“And I wanted to ask you if, well-”

 

“What are you  _ doing? _ ” Jackie hisses, and Kim nearly jumps out of her skin.

 

“Shhhhhh,” she whispers back, clasping a hand over Jackie’s mouth and dragging her back to the wall (an impressive feat, considering she’s nearly a head shorter than her familiar). “It’s finally happening!”

 

Jackie’s eyes widen, and she stops squirming, instead crouching behind Kim to incline her ear more closely to the discussion happening in the kitchen..

 

“Are you asking me out?” Kilik asks bluntly, and Kim turns to grin at Jackie.

 

“I, um, well, yes?”

 

_ I told you so, _ Kim mouths to Jackie, who rolls her eyes in lieu of a response. The two lean their heads closer to the kitchen, listening to the ensuing conversation.

 

“Y-eah, absolutely, of course. I’d be honored.”

 

Kilik always babbles when he’s nervous, Kim thinks fondly, and she can practically see Kid’s blush at the other’s excitement. They’ve lowered their voices, but she’s satisfied, and so she turns to leave them in peace and rejoin the others when Jackie’s a little closer to her face than she expected and she lets out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a moan. Kim claps her hand over her mouth, but not before Kilik’s made his way to the stairs with what had to be lightning speed and is staring at Kim and Jackie, arms folded over his chest.

 

“What the hell are you two doing?” he shouts.

 

“Eavesdropping,” Kim says with a smile, sidestepping gracefully away from Jackie, who’s turned a lovely shade of pink.

 

“Of course you are.” Kilik rolls his eyes. “So I guess you heard everything then.”

 

“Heard what?”

 

Liz has poked her head around the corner, Patti in tow. Kim can see the rest of the group craning their heads from the other side of the counter. Kid’s made his way from the kitchen now, and Kim stifles a giggle at the situation.

 

“Oh fine, whatever.” Kilik stalks over to stand by Kid and grabs his hand. There’s a collective gasp from the group watching. “Kim will tell you anyway, even though we kind of hoped to keep it a secret…”

 

“Oh,  _ that’s _ why you started whispering then!” Kim exclaims. “I was curious, but didn’t want to pry…”

 

“So you eavesdropped instead,” Kid snaps, but the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips make it harder for Kim to take him seriously.

 

“Thank god,” Patti says, rolling her eyes.

 

“Seriously,” Blackstar shouts. “It’s about damn time!”

 

Maka makes her way toward the kitchen, Soul in tow. “I’m really happy for you guys!”

 

“Me too,” Tsubaki adds.

 

Liz mutters to herself, eyes wide, and Kim nearly misses it in the commotion and congratulations, but catches the other girl’s expression.

 

“What did you say?” Kim asks.

 

“I won.” Liz’s eyes are wide. “I can’t believe it. I won.”

 

“Won what?” Kid asks as Kim clasps a hand to her face and sinks to the floor.

 

“Fucking shit,” she swears. “I was one day off. One fucking day!”

 

“Won  _ what? _ ” Kid asks more insistently this time.

 

“The betting pool,” Jackie answers matter-of-factly. “We’ve had one running on you two, and on Soul and Maka over there. Liz bet double or nothing that both couples would get together on the same day, and that it would happen before May 1st.”

 

“You had a  _ betting pool _ on us?!” Maka and Kid shout in unison.

 

Kim moves from her seat on the floor and makes her way to the bottom of the stairs. The group bickers and laughs together in front of her, Kilik’s hand grasped tightly in Kid’s and Soul’s entwined with Maka’s. The group collectively bursts into laughter just as the day’s storm finally breaks, and Kim smiles to herself. Maybe she doesn’t hate storms after all.


End file.
